<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Collection of Small Pockets by eggasaur</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22574626">A Collection of Small Pockets</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggasaur/pseuds/eggasaur'>eggasaur</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Personal - Fandom, creative writting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 10:35:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>718</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22574626</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggasaur/pseuds/eggasaur</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of the things I wrote in school. Lots of them are mismatched, and don't connect.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. What Fourth Period Was</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is a collection of documents in my google drive that i feel like convey specific ideas and thoughts I want to share.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Keys clacked and people talked in low voices. A normal high school setting, that of a normal book, a normal plot. </p>
<p>We have different kinds of kids at this school, as all school has. We have the kids that sit at desks writing instead of doing work, and we have the kids that write because they’re done with their work. We have kids that write because they have to, they keep writing, they can’t stop. Their blinks are commas, their breathing spaces. </p>
<p>At this school, we write, and we keep writing until there’s nothing else to write about. </p>
<p>Think of this as a reflection of how useless the school system is, but I’m just bored in my fourth period class, where everyone's writing their research papers. It’s boring here, and not everything has to be a comment about society.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Smell of Tear Stained Pillows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>this was a poem we had to write my sophomore year. I still like it, but I wish we weren't restrained to the formatting.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Never Shall I Forget that spring night I spent in denial, spent in my second story room, moon streaming through my open windows in what seemed a brightness as that of the sun. </p>
<p>Never Shall I Forget the days and weeks I spent mourning you, the idea of you, everything that happened in those first few weeks of summer, how I spent endless days in an endless sun baking in endless thought. </p>
<p>Never Shall I Forget How we fought, and you never understood, I never heard, and how we never fixed anything. How the smell of a pillow wet from tears never ceased to somehow be comforting. </p>
<p>Never Shall I Forget the sun that bled through my soul, bright as I yearned for, even if my mind was still thundering with dark storm clouds. </p>
<p>Never Shall I Forget the drulls of weeks and weekends of repetition born from this routine, making the days and weeks blur together, making everything hard to keep track of. </p>
<p>Never Shall I Forget the deep sadness that wracked my body at night, the sobs that choked me and made my speech garbled as I gasped apologies for no one to hear. </p>
<p>Never Shall I Forget this past year, this new growth from everything you've cause, the hope from others that have inspired me, the painful truths I had to face in order to earn to this newer self. </p>
<p>Never Shall I Forget the encouragement from my family, the support from my friends, the brightness they’ve helped me remember, the new hopeful perspectives they’ve enlightened me to. </p>
<p>Never Shall I Forget these things as long as I live. </p>
<p>Never.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>if you have any writing prompts, send them my way! I like writing small (or big) blurbs from abstract ideas.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. You Can't Be My Silence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You created my fear and my sadness, sprung from the silence you spoke.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this was written in grief when I realized I had complicated feelings for one of my more painful exes- years ago.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At first it had no significance to me. At first it was just something I saw, and had little to no reaction to. </p>
<p>But then I met you.</p>
<p>And it changed. Everything changed. I am caught between a tug-o-war of emotion. Happiness pulls harder when you're around. The monstrosity of anxiety and fears wrap its hands around the chord of my feelings and tugs harder. How could happiness ever win? </p>
<p>My heart leaps every time I get a notification. But only if the worry is winning. I can feel my heart beat faster, my anxieties rise, my stomach drops to the floor to crack the concrete of my nerves beneath its weight. </p>
<p>Now I see it. The colors, even the slightest mention towards it, even the entire subject and your face leaps out at me in my mind. </p>
<p>I am disappointed in myself. How could I be so selfish? How could I think of you so much and not care about you? I do… but how can I even show it? Am I being obsessive?</p>
<p>You brought so much complication to my life. </p>
<p>I regret telling you some things. Most things. All things.</p>
<p>When at first silence could not lull me to sleep, I turned to music. Others talking would keep me up, their thoughts out loud would mix with my own, when I was trying to drown out the noise from my own head, others would chime in. But I’ve gotten used to your voice- somehow. </p>
<p>I don’t like this change. </p>
<p>I hate being on the phone with more than one person. I hate talking to more than one person, I hate more than one person in my space. I can only handle one person by myself, at home or in person. </p>
<p>I can’t talk for long periods of time, but I can’t handle silence.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>if you have any writing prompts, I'd love to answer them!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if you have any writting promts, ill be glad to do a small blurb on them! or a bif blurb, something like that. I like writting, I just don't have many of my own ideas I think are worth pursuing if it's not fan fiction.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>